


Just a Hint of Magic

by Drag0nst0rm



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur is not quite as oblivious as he looks, But also not quite as insightful as he thinks he is, Gen, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: The thing was, most sorcerers didn't know enough spells to actually put up much of a fight.So when Arthur first noticed Merlin had magic, he wasn't too worried about it.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 658





	Just a Hint of Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MegMarch1880](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegMarch1880/gifts).



The thing was, most sorcerers didn’t actually have enough magic to put up too much of a fight. The totally untrained had one or two things they’d overheard or learned how to do instinctively; village hedge witches knew a few charms more, but most of their hexes tended to be aimed at things like cursing cow’s milk to go sour, not things that were of much use against a troop of well-trained knights. 

Priestesses of the Old Religion were another matter, of course, as were the former battle mages of various courts, but the average witch just . . . wasn’t much of a threat.

Not a threat to the knights, Arthur corrected himself quickly. To unarmed and unprepared villagers, of course it was another story, which was why they had to die. 

But that wasn’t the point. The point was –

The point was, when he’d seen Merlin’s eyes flash gold as a tree branch broke over a bandit’s head, he’d had very good reason to not be afraid.

It was exactly the sort of cantrip he’d expect from a minor hedge witch, exactly the sort of thing that someone from the borders of Essetir might learn and not think was a big deal. It would be a problem, of course, if his father saw it, but –

Arthur wasn’t blind. Ever since he was small, there had been times when his father had approached Gaius and said he needed something done, whatever it took.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what that meant.

It was only on rare occasions, times when the fate of the whole kingdom was at stake – or when Arthur or Morgana’s life was.

And the thing was, in a fight against bandits, Merlin’s life was at stake, and given how hopeless he’d proven at other forms of combat, this was probably his only option, and the incident with Lancelot had already taught Arthur the foolishness of having one law for the common folk and another for those who lived in the citadel.

It was still dangerous, of course, but Arthur had a theory that the more powerful magic was, the more quickly it corrupted, and this wasn’t too powerful. Frequency of use probably also had something to do with it, and despite Merlin’s claims, they didn’t actually run into bandits every time they went out into the woods to hunt, so it wasn’t as bad as it could be.

It was dangerous, but Arthur was right there. He could talk Merlin down if things started going too far and . . . take him down . . . if he had to, to protect others.

His stomach rolled at the thought, but he gritted his teeth and promised himself he could.

He knew, and Merlin knew he knew, but they didn’t talk about it.

(Merlin’s absurd attempt to claim credit for the poultice under Tom’s pillow aside. Looking back, Arthur supposed it was possible Merlin knew two spells and really had done it, but it seemed far more likely that wasn’t the case; it was such an absurdly specific cure to know. Surely Ealdor had never had an Afanc.)

The knowing wasn’t in words; it was in the way Merlin would look to him after a fight, and Arthur would nod his approval.

_You haven’t gone too far. This is fine. You’re fine._

He didn’t want to think about what he would do if there ever came a day when he couldn’t in good conscience give that approval.

Then Merlin made a mercenary drop his sword, and Arthur had to concede that Merlin could do two things. Still perfectly reasonable –

And then he threw two mercenaries back with an invisible force, and, alright, three things. But that one was a very basic thing; lots of sorcerers could do that. Still –

Still.

When the Knights of Medhir suddenly collapsed around him, he had to concede that alright, Gaius was probably giving Merlin some training.

Which he probably should have expected, honestly. Gaius was an old man, as much as he hated to think it, and he had openly said he was training Merlin as his successor.

Arthur didn’t want to be the kind of king who had one law for himself and another for everyone else, who allowed sorcery to save his own kin’s life and burned others for attempting likewise - although at least if sorcery was only in the citadel he could at least keep an eye on it.

Still. He didn’t want to do what his father had done. He didn’t want to turn to Merlin – bright, sunny Merlin – and say do whatever it takes, and then turn his back on whatever it was.

He didn’t want that, but he wasn’t sure what he did want, and he could hardly talk about it anyway. That was the deal: no one talked about it, so they could all pretend it didn’t happen.

When his father was dead – and he winced at the thought, but kept going – when his father was dead, they could talk. Merlin had a knack for helping Arthur get his thoughts in order. They would talk, and they would figure something out. He wouldn’t condemn Merlin to sorcery’s lonely and paranoid life. They would find another way.

It wouldn’t be that big of a deal for Merlin to stop, surely. How many spells could Merlin even know by now? Five? Maybe six? Gaius would know more, but he doubted Merlin was a fast learner. He had certainly dragged his feet about learning his duties as a manservant.

It would be fine.

(Incidentally, apparently he was wrong about he and Merlin having an understanding. Apparently, Merlin thought that was a “yes, I’m fine” post-battle nod, not a “yes, you’re fine and not about to get executed” post-battle nod. There were certain drawbacks to the not talking about things approach, as much as Arthur now desperately missed it.)

(But Merlin had confessed now so that was – fine. Just fine. Except for - )

(“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, “you’re who?”)

(“Emrys,” Merlin said, fidgeting slightly. “The druids think I’m the most powerful warlock to ever exist.”)

(“Ah,” he said blankly.)

(So probably more than five spells, then.)


End file.
